perhaps the same age,
whose clear blue eyes, flaxen hair, and ruddy cheeks betokened northern
blood. Sitting apart were the King's justiciary and the sheriff of
Dumbarton. At the far end of the hall at either side of the portal stood
two Highlanders, armed with drawn swords.

The king, now at the age of three-and-twenty, was dressed in a long robe
of brown velvet, trimmed with fur. He wore a heavy chain of gold about
his neck, with the device of the thistle resting on his jerkin of purple
silk. The jewelled haft of a dagger was seen in his belt of crimson
leather, and a long sword hung at his left side. His long thin legs were
clothed in tight-fitting hose, and his feet -- which were, perhaps, over
large -- were furnished with warm slippers lined with fur. He sat with
his legs stretched out before him, and with his hands clasped behind his
head.

Presently he yawned, stretched his arms aloft, and stood up, walking to
and fro about the apartment with his thumbs stuck in his belt. In person
he was majestic, and although his figure was too tall and his bones
over-large and ill-covered, yet his limbs were well formed, and he bore
himself gracefully. His countenance was handsome, and it beamed with a
manly and sweet expression, which corresponded with the sincerity of his
character.

Pausing abruptly in his pacing, he addressed the English page.

"We will now see this young lord of Bute," he said. "Go, Edwin, and bid
him enter, and with him our friend Sir Piers de Currie."

Edwin went out. His companion of the flaxen hair fixed his blue eyes
upon the doorway, nervously expectant.

"Ah, my young Harald," said the King in Gaelic. "So, then, you heard the
name of Bute, eh? Are you already weary of courtly life that you so
prick up your ears at the name of an island?"

The youth blushed and looked ashamed, but still furtively watched the
door as it was reopened to admit Earl Kenric. Sir Piers de Currie
entering with him, remained within the doorway until the king should be
ready to receive him.

Kenric was attired in the same fashion as on the day of his throning,
but that he now wore no covering upon his head. He advanced towards the
king, and prostrated himself humbly before him.

"God be your guard, my lord the king," he murmured in that pure English
that his mother had taught him, and raising himself on one knee he took
King Alexander's hand in his own and pressed it to his lips.

"I, your Majesty's humble vassa